


T'was Meant To Be

by EvanIsAZombie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (spolier) ginny dies, M/M, The Dursleys Suck, but he prefers the boys, dumbledore is a queen, escpecially harry, gets a heck lot darker tho, harry is the big gay, hermionie and krum all the way, rons bi, snape is a big oof, starts out okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-08-26 01:43:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16672402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvanIsAZombie/pseuds/EvanIsAZombie
Summary: The Dursleys' of No.4 on Privet Drive will be quick to remind you that they are very normal, thank you very much. Vernon, the picture perfect father (who is nothing but lovely we assure you), Petunia with her wonderful garden and perfectly normal non-magical life (who most certainly has no siblings, especially no freak sisters!). And let's not forget Dudley the delightful little boy who is always so kind (nothing but kind that Dudley!) to his unfortunate cousin Harry (who is most definitely NOT a gay wizard).





	1. The Day Everything Changed

**Author's Note:**

> last thing imma write then im done

   Everything in Harry's life was an absolute sham. His Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were most certainly _not_ the 'picture perfect parents' they would lead you to believe they were. They spoiled their son Dudley _(or as Aunt Petunia called him 'Duddy-kins')_ filthy rotten. Everything that boy wanted he got. And as a result his parents got a nasty, whiny, complete _brat_ of a son.

You would think they'd treat their nephew Harry the same. That he too would be the spoiled brat whose doting guardians catered to his every whim.

You would be quite wrong.

Though each horrid in their own unique and awful way, the Dursleys each seemed to have one common goal: _**Make Harry's Life as Shitty as Possible.**_

Harry himself was never quite sure why. Maybe it was because Dudley was their son and he was their lowly nephew. Maybe because he was dropped on their doorstep after the untimely death of his Mother and Father, they felt him to be a burden (if so, why didn't they just send him to an orphanage?). The endless possibilities plagued him his whole life.

That is, until his eleventh birthday. Which brings us to the beginning of this story.

\----

 On the morning of his eleventh birthday, Harry Potter woke in his small cupboard under the stairs assuming that this birthday would be like any other. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he stretched his tired body and rose from bed. Putting on his taped-up glasses he spared a glance under the door. A small bit of light had shone through. This meant Aunt Petunia was likely in the kitchen cooking up breakfast as usual.

Scrambled eggs sunny-side up accompanied by two pieces of sausage and a cup of coffee, straight black, for Uncle Vernon.

Four pancakes and four waffles each drenched in syrup and whipped cream, with eight pieces of bacon and a glass of orange juice for 'Duddy-kins'.

A bowl of Honey-Nut-Cheerios and whole milk with two strawberries on the side, and a cup of black coffee with a single scoop of sugar for herself.

Last and certainly least, a slice of bread for Harry. Since it was his birthday he'd be allowed to toast it, if his Aunt was feeling generous. Happy birthday indeed.

Knowing that when she was done he would be screeched at to hurry and get ready for today, he quickly removed his sleep-wear and pulled on the first two items of clothing he could find. He ended up with a scratchy-gray sweater that Dudley received for Christmas and had long since out-grown and a tattered pair of blue-jeans he'd stolen from the lost-and-found of school, when he'd tired of his Dudley hand-me-down-pants falling off, as they were _much_ to large for him.

Then he brushed his forever-messy mane of hair with his fingers and slipped on a pair of white converse that also came from the lost-and-found. He took another glance at the door. After a few seconds more lights were clicked on, and their brightness spilled under his door. He'd gotten up just in time.

After about two more minutes of waiting sat on his bed (which he'd remade), the sound of Aunt Petunia's sensible heels clicking on the wooden floor drew nearer. As she did everyday of his life she screeched the words "HARRY! UP! NOW!", punctuating each word with a harsh rap at his door. Sighing he opened the door to tend to his morning chores. If it was a week-day they would be as follows:

 _1_. _Wake up Dudley and Uncle Vernon_

 _2_ _. Take out the trash_

_3._ _Make sure Dudley's school things are all ready, and placed were he can find them._

_4._ _Get Uncle Vernon's briefcase ready and by the door with his work coat._

_5._ _Get his own school things ready_

_6._ _Be as normal as possible._

Today however was Saturday. So the only things he had to do were:

 _1._ _Take out the trash_

_2._ _Get the mail_

_3._ _Clean Dudley's room_

_4._ _Clean Aunt Petunia/Uncle Vernon's room_

_5._ _Be as normal as possible._

His Aunt had both of these lists pinned to the fridge so he wouldn't forget. Not that it was necessary, seeing as he'd never failed to complete them lest he face the punishment of being locked in his closet.

Harry shuffled into the kitchen and was greeted by the familiar sight of one of Dudley's temper-tantrums. "But LAST year I got thirty-four presents and THIS year I only got thirty-two of them!" his cousin wailed. Already knowing the situations outcome, he grabbed his breakfast and the trash, starting towards the door. "Don't you worry Duddy-kins, after our trip to the zoo Mummy will take you to get three more to make up for it!" he heard Aunt Petunia saying as he closed the door.

 _At least I have the zoo to look forward to_ , he thought throwing the garbage into the bin. There he could pretend the Dursleys cared enough to take him out on his birthday. He was just about done with his breakfast when he approached the mail-box. Luckily he'd gulped it down before he'd set eyes on it or he'd have surely spit it out. The mailbox labeled **_Vernon/Petunia Dursley, No.4 Privet Drive_** was so full of letters that Harry was surprised it hadn't exploded open by now. A single piece of tape held it shut, several envelopes peeking out around the edges.

He blinked in confusion, as if when he re-opened his eyes it would somehow restore the mail-box's normality. However no matter how long he stared at it the overflowing mailbox remained there in front of him. He hesitantly stretched a hand out toward the dangerously full box. Pressing his index finger onto one of the envelopes, he could make out the strangest address he'd seen in all his eleven years.

**_To Harry Potter, In the Cupboard Under the Stairs of No.4 Privet Drive_ **

Under this was a beautiful maroon wax seal of the letter _'H'_.

This both alarmed and confused him. Who would be writing to him? He had no friends, and it certainly wasn't school; their mark wasn't an 'H'. They would've called anyhow. More frightening, how did they know he lived under the stairs? Was he being stalked by someone?

"Boy, what are you doing out there! Get in here and finish your chores!" Uncle Vernon bellowed from inside. Acting on impulse he stored the letter he was looking at in the front of his sweater. Knowing he needed to answer, yet dreaded being blamed somehow, he called back. "I-I think there's been a mistake with the post-man..They've given you a lot more junk mail than usual!" Lame statement but he couldn't think of any other reasonable explanation.

"I don't care about what the bloody postman did, just bring it inside before I get out there and MAKE you!" his Uncle shouted back. "All right but he better not blame me for this." Harry muttered knowing fully that he would. Carefully, he began to peel the tape off with one hand while keeping his other arm below the mailbox in case any fell out. When he finally got the tape open the lid slammed open onto his arm shooting the envelopes out like bullets. Caught off guard Harry stumbled and fell onto his bum.

He gaped in surprise at what appeared to be some thirty or maybe even forty of the same letter all with that same odd address. All addressed to _him_!

"THREE TIMES I'VE TOLD YOU!" Uncle Vernon's voice roared, cutting through Harry's daze. As he scrambled to pick up all his letters, his Uncle continued "-THREE TIMES AND STILL YOU'RE OUT THERE DAWDLING! YOU'D BETTER HOPE YOU GET IN BEFORE I'M DONE Y-" Harry cut him off by slamming open the backdoor. Up to his glasses in envelopes he'd barely gotten the door open, and he was probably as surprised as the rest of the house was. "Sorry about that sir!" He panted, doing his best to use a polite voice. "I-It took me a while to get all of them here without dropping any...I think there might be some still in the yard so I should probably just set these" (He moved towards the countertop) " _here_ " (he put down the weird letters) "and go get the rest." He had made a move for the door when his Uncle seized his arm and forcefully yanked him back. With a resonating _BOOM!_ Vernon had used his other arm to close the door.

"YOU LOOKED AT IT BEFORE WE BURNED IT DIDN'T YOU, YOU LITTLE SNEAK THIEF!" He boomed. Harry, having finally reached his breaking point yelled back. "What are you talking about?! I haven't got anything to do with this-"

"OF COURSE YOU DO!" Vernon cut him off, flinging spittle along with his words. His nearly-neck-less head was so red it was almost purple. "YOUR NAME (he jabbed a stubby finger at the letter pile) YOUR ADDRESS, _YOUR FAULT_!" Feeling that he'd made his point, Vernon dragged a flabbergasted Harry towards his cupboard. "Now you stay in there!" He said as he flung Harry inside. "And don't even think about trying to get out again!" With that his closet door was slammed and locked shut once more.

\----

He couldn't understand it. He truly couldn't believe what his eyes were registering in this moment. This letter was either complete insanity or the best birthday gift Harry could've asked for.

_Mr. Potter,_

_It seems that your Guardians have either misplaced or not received our last letters regarding your scholarship at the Hogwarts School of Magic. We've reached out to them several times and have not received word back, which is why we've decided to mail this one directly to yourself._

_Your first semester will start one week after you have received this letter. You shall need the following supplies:_

_A Wand_

_Twenty Rolls of Parchment_

_An Ink & Quill Set _

_School Robes & Hat _

_A Satchel for All Your Supplies._

_Your teachers shall give you a further list of necessities after you have been sorted in your House. The Hogwarts Express will be waiting for you and your fellow witches, and wizards on August the 7th around 8:30 am on platform 9 &3/4. You needn't worry about a ride there. We shall be sending our school gamekeeper, Hagrid, to collect you as well as help you find all the school supplies you'll be needing. _

_Warmest Regards,_

_Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts._

_(p.s, Don't worry about having to dispose of this letter either, it's enchanted to disapparate back to me when you're finished with it.)_

Mind reeling with new information, Harry re-folded the letter and went to set it back by its envelope, on his desk. As soon as it made contact with it he was surprised to see it vanish completely-envelope and all!

His jaw dropped open in shock. _I was just holding it_ he thought, gazing at his now empty hand _it was_ right here _and it vanished into thin air!  
_

He threw his gaze around the rest of the small room as if making sure nothing else would disappear. The boy wasn't sure what to make of this new revelation. Not only was magic real but he, Harry, was apparently able to perform it. That was if the letter was correct. Then again it said that it would disappear, or _disapparate_ and it was right about that wasn't it? It had completely vanished! Poof, gone! So logically speaking (if there is anything logical about absurdities such as this) it wouldn't be wrong about Harry's wizard-ship, would it?

Frowning he looked down at the backs of his hands. They looked quite normal. Flipping them around, he traced the lines in his palms. Nothing off about them either. Curled one into a fist. Without meaning to he said aloud, "Wizard? Me?"

As if waiting for those words to be spoken a thunderous crash sounded from the Dursleys' living room, along with shrieks from Dudley and Aunt Petunia. Letting out a startled gasp, Harry rushed to his door before remembering it was locked. The boy-wizard resigned to pressing his head to the ground and trying to see from the gap in the door. He could just make out Aunt Petunia's heels standing in front of Dudley's expensive suede shoes. Around them was brick and dust, as if the fireplace had somehow...burst or exploded. Uncle Vernon's loafers came clunking onto the scene. "What's going on in h-" Vernon cut himself off and let out a strangled shriek-y noise. He said the next part so quietly Harry could just make out the words. "But..w-we burned them..t-t-told the postman the address was wrong how is this..? How are _you_....?!"

Confused Harry pressed his face closer to the floor. What was he going on about?

He got his answer as two ginormous work-boots stomped from the remains of the fireplace. At this point he truly felt he was going mad. Those shoes, the feet inside them were simply to big to be allowed! It was as if the man or woman in them was a giant of some sort. A voice he didn't recognize (the mysterious boot-person, no doubt) rumbled from several feet above Vernon's head. "Changin' addresses an' burnin' letters ain't foolin' wizards mate. We's knowin' you was sabotagin' 'Arry's chances from th' momen' we sent the tha' firs' letter." A heavy silence reigned for a moment. So it was true..Harry really was magical. It still didn't explain why his Aunt and Uncle would try to stop him from going. They detested him, all three of them, so why weren't they happy to send him packing? Wasn't that what they'd always wanted? To be-rid themselves of the burden that was Harry Potter?

 "Lunacy!" Uncle Vernon hissed spitefully, shattering the silence. "All this talk of _magic_ and _wizards_..! It's nothing but poppycock a-and falsehood! Everyone knows that there's no such thing as a-a _'Hogwarts'_ or a _'wizard school'_ , no matter what some freak like YOU or that crackpot _Dumble-whatever_ says-!"

 _"DO NOT SPEAK ILL OF THA' MAN!"_ the stranger bellowed eliciting more shrieks from Aunt Petunia and Dudley.

Harry felt a small smile make its way onto his face. He had a feeling he'd get along just fine with this person.

"You all jus' be thankful I'm on orders not t' interfere to much, or I'd smack ye' each so 'ard your 'eads 'd be spinnin' like tops. Now tell me: where. is. 'Arry?" There was a pause. This time it was Aunt Petunia who found her voice. "We are his guardians and you have no right coming in here and..a-accusing us of this nonsense and trying to brainwash our nephew the same way you people did my sister!" This surprised Harry greatly. His Aunt hardly ever spoke of her sister. And what was this she was saying, 'same way as her sister'? Could it be that his mother had powers too? 

The stranger, however, took no heed to her words and said again, "Where is he?", and this time he added, "I'm not leavin' withou' 'im." The work-boots walked forward and the other shoes shuffled backward.

For a moment Harry merely sat in anticipation. Then he realized that his Aunt and Uncle weren't the only ones with vocal cords. Up-righting himself, he pounded on the door with his right hand and cupped the side of his mouth to amplify his voice with his left. "I'm in here!", he cried, "-they've locked me in the cupboard under the stairs!"

The loud thumping of the stranger rapidly approached his door. The giant's shadow loomed outside his bedroom door. He could no longer make out any outside light. _How tall is this man?_ he wondered fleetingly.

The doorknob twisted and turned, indicating the giant was attempting to open it. "Bloody hell...twisted old muggle, lockin' 'is poor sod in th' closet.." Harry heard him murmur. "All righ' this ain't gonna work..Harry!" He said, shouting the last bit. "Stand back, I'm gonna haf'ta use a spell on is' thing! Tell me when so I don' hitcha wi' it!" Obeying, Harry moved onto his bed pressing his back against the wall. After he was sure this was as far as he could go he replied. "I'm ready!"

No sooner then that, his door was blasted inward in a shower of green sparks slamming into the wall. Standing before him was a man in a large brown overcoat, with a thick shaggy beard that reached past his large torso. The giant lowered his head in the doorway and Harry finally glimpsed his saviors face. An equally thick mustache rested below his potato shaped nose, and above that was a pair of chocolate brown eyes bearing kindness and merriment. Those same eyes crinkled a bit when the man pulled his non-visible lips into a warm smile.

"Well met Mr.Potter. M' names 'Agrid, the one sent by Dumbledore, an' I'm 'ere to 'elp you get ready for your new life in th' wizardin' world."

\----


	2. Welcome, To The Wizarding World!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We bid farewell to the Dursleys and Hagrid's got some 'splanin to do....
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> (Nobody's gonna get that I Love Lucy reference)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yer a wizard harry
> 
>  
> 
> ....
> 
>  
> 
> ...i'm a wot?

 

  After the exciting revelation of befriending a half-giant named Hagrid (who had also clarified that only his mother was a giant so he was half-human) and learning that he was a wizard Harry had expected to be worn out by now. But, as he continued to pack his belongings into his pillow-case, he found that his energy was somehow flourishing rapidly. Folding his hand-me-down clothes the same thought continued to run around his mind. _I'm free of them I'm free, I'm going to a place where I might just be happy!_

Harry felt his grin grow wider if it was possible. He'd finally finished packing. Not that it took him long anyhow; he'd only packed a pair of pajamas, couple pairs of underwear and a toothbrush. Under different circumstances he'd probably be depressed looking at these items. Likely thinking something along the lines of ' _Oh wow. Eleven years and all it amounts to is some ratty old clothes and a toothbrush. That's all I'm worth right there.'_

..But two minutes ago he'd been informed that he was a freaking **_wizard_**. Kinda hard to feel bummed after that.

 "Cm'on 'Arry! We ought t' Diagon Ally b'fore all th' good school stuff is gone!" his new friend called from the living room. Beaming Harry followed Hagrid's suggestion and all but skipped out of his room. His cloud of happiness evaporated a bit when he saw the sneering faces of the Dursleys. Normally he'd just chalk it up to their usual bad nature. But he could understand why they'd be a little chaffed at the moment. Their living room was coated in white dust and what looked like dried cement that had been holding the brick fireplace together. The aforementioned bricks were scattered messily around the room. Three were sitting on the couch, making themselves at home. A few had left scuffed up marks on the polished floor, and he noted (with some satisfaction) that one had landed dead-center on Dudley's oversized breakfast. So it was natural to say they weren't happy about their living area being completely wrecked. Not that it would compare to the wreckage that would fall upon Mr./Mrs. Dursley's bank account after they paid for all the repairs!

 Mentally snickering at the thought he strode past all six glaring eyes with his head held high. "All set t' go then?" Hagrid asked. Harry nodded and said "Yes sir, all packed!" He  took his place at the older man's side, back facing the hallway. "So are we taking a magic bus there, or d'you have a car we could use?" Harry asked. Hagrid gave him an incredulous look before chuckling bemusedly. Harry's face must've borne his confusion, because Hagrid clarified "Sorry 'Arry don't really mean to laugh at'cha. Jus' forgot you was knew to this sort o' thing. No, we'll be takin' this here port-key back." On the word port-key he pulled a plastic water bottle from his coat-pocket. Before Harry could question how a recyclable would be taking them to the magical world an obnoxious snort of laughter interrupted.

 "You really are pair of freaks aren't you?!" Dudley guffawed. "Thinkin' that some teeny bottle o' water will get you home to you're _"Diagonally"_ and you're _"Hoggy-wart"_ o-or you're freakazoid leader _"Dumbly-dork"_ -AAAIIIIE!" Dudley's bullying was cut off by Hagrid pulling out a pink umbrella and casting a spell that sounded more like a sneeze than a word. Pink sparks flew out of it's end striking Dudley. Vernon and Petunia were pulled out of their glaring trance. "My Duddy-kins! What did that monster do to you, oh you poor thing!" She cried rushing to his side, her husband dogging her. Dudley who had began to whine and wail turned over to reveal that a curly pig-tail had sprouted from his backside!

Unable to contain it laughter bubbled out of Harry's mouth, as he watched Dudley squealing like a pig and his parent's fret and shriek about it. If he was dreaming he hoped he wasn't waking up anytime soon.

Hagrid clapped Harry's back, the affectionate gesture knocking the wind from him. "I believe that's our signal t' leave m'boy." The water bottle was extended from the giant to the boy. Fueled by his excitement, Harry secured his grip onto the port-key without hesitation. Moments after he felt a firm jerk in his torso as if being yanked forward by an invisible wire. A sea of colors blurred past him rapidly increasing speed. Just as his brain was starting to process this chain of events, it all stopped.

 Head spinning Harry held his eyes shut for a moment. He felt his legs sway dangerously beneath him. Harry placed his hands on either side of his temples, as if to stop the sudden set of weariness. Perhaps set on because he's just traveled at warp speed, or maybe because the weight of the situation was coming crashing on to him all at once. It was likely a bit of both. The swaying boy felt a giant hand (most definitely Hagrid's) gently pull him towards it's body.

"We should pr'bly get you somewhere to lie down for a bit huh 'Arry? I understand. All that fuss an' then the port-key gotcha feelin' a bit sickly, s' normal." Hagrid said, gently guiding Harry's leg's to walk. The farther they went the more sounds filled Harry's ears. Footsteps, the whiz of nearby spells, and bits of conversation drifted by.

"...and then Professor Snape gave me a _T_ anyway! Can you believe that Judy? Completely unfair..."

_Professor Snape? Will he be teaching at Hogwarts? And what's with this T business? Sounds like a failing grade._

"..C'mon Mom, we've got to get to Gringotts and exchange our money before all the best books are gone!.."

_Gringotts? Sounds familiar.._

"..Settle down Draco, the wand shop isn't going anywhere!.."

_Draco..Sounds like something you'd name a dragon to me._

The next sound was a door creaking open and then shut behind them. The excitement outside had been replaced with the chatter of what smelled like a pub. The smell of alcohol was a frequent guest in Uncle Vernon's office. Harry risked a peek. Slowly he was able to open his eyes. Robed men and women sat at the counter drinking from wooden tankards. One sat in the corner of the room singing quietly to himself. Another was doing a card trick to impress the pretty witch next to him.

He let out a relieved sigh. This was a lot less overwhelming.

Remember the thought he had earlier, about being worn out?

It caught up with him.

The strange, large feeling of the new world was slowly being driven out by the desire for a sandwich and a nap. Thankfully Hagrid was able to find them a booth in the back and generously order Harry a glass of milk and a ham sandwich. "All righ' then." Hagrid said, setting Harry's belongings in the extra chair. "Feelin' better th'n?"

Harry nodded. "Good." Hagrid replied. The giant nodded to himself like he needed convincing too. "Right, right....so you got any questions for me lad? Probably got loads of 'em, new place wi' people you don't know. Ask away and I'll answer best I can." Harry put his tired mind to work. Hagrid was right there were millions of things to learn about the magical world. So many that he wished he could as all of them at once. As this was impossible he asked the simplest of them first. "Where exactly are we again?"

\----

  After about forty minutes of questions and one sandwich/cup of milk later, Harry learned quite a few things. The port-key (which could be almost any item when enchanted properly) was a type of transportation from one place to another. Their location was the Leaky Caldron at Diagon Ally, which served as a shopping district for wizards and witches. The tavern was ran by a friend of Hagrids which was why they didn't have to pay. Hogwarts was not the only school of magic, there were several more scattered around the world. He also learned about small but strange differences between the magic and non-magical world. Non-magical people were called Muggles and unlike Muggles wizards used magic instead of electricity ("Why would we need it when we got magic?" was Hagrids explanation). Instead of basketball or football a complicated game called Quidditch was played using broomsticks. They even had a different form of currency, made up of coins called Galleons, Knuts and Sickles. Wizarding life was turning out to be more complicated than Harry would have thought.

\---

 

His whole life Harry's Aunt and Uncle drilled it into his head that his mother and father had died in an accident, a car crash to be specific, when Harry's was just a baby. The government then dumped him on the nearest relatives he had confining him to a life of misery. Harry had no reason to disbelieve this until Hagrid brought it up.

"Th' only thing I can' understan' is 'ow you didn' figure 'is ou' earlier, wi' what 'appened t' yer parents an' all." He had grumbled. Feeling disgruntled Harry said, "What do you mean? Did something magic happen that made their car crash?"

"Car crash?" Hagrid said. His eyebrows had migrated to his hair-line. "Wha' are ya on abou'?"

"Well that's how they died isn't it?" Harry replied as the pit in his stomach continued to deepen. "That's what my Aunt and Uncle told me anyways.." The more he thought about it, the more Harry realized that this story didn't factor in with the rest of the equation. Wizards killed by a car crash? It didn't add up. They'd probably be able to heal themselves or somehow stop the oncoming threat. And come to think of it, hadn't Hagrid explained that magical people didn't even _use_ cars?

"I should'a known tha' great prune Dursley would'a lied t' ya 'bout yer parents. Car crash killin' Lily an' James Potter.." Hagrid said with a disapproving shake of his head.

"So if they didn't die in a car crash, what really happened to my mum and dad Hagrid?" Harry asked. He felt his stomach churn with dread and an odd feel of excitement. Knowing practically nothing about his parents had made him drool over any little story someone could cough up about them. That proof that Lily and James Potter had once breathed and talked and lived, that they weren't just to faceless names, gave him more hope than he was willing to admit.

"Well.." Hagrid glanced around nervously. He dropped his voice to a hoarse whisper, and Harry had to lean forward to make out the words "we don't speak his name ya see. Terrible thing, that man. Killed an' hurt many people without thought, far too many lives takin'. He's the culmination of all the Dark arts all the ways power can make a man turn mad."

He felt his brow furrow. "Dark Arts?" Hagrid gave grave nod. "There's two types a magic we wizards use, Light magic which is things like healing spells unlockin' doors-simple stuff they'll teach ya in school. An' then there's the Dark Arts. Most if it's illegal now like the killin' curse an' what not. We call those the 'Unforgivable Curses'. Messin' w' things like tha'll land ya in jail or worse."

Harry nodded taking the information in. _So, Light magic is good, Dark Magic is bad and some Dark magic gets you in jail. Got it._

With a lighter tone the giant added "We also got some things that are a bit in-between, like the new addition I gave tha' cousin o' yers." There was a cheeky twinkle in his friends eyes as he said this. The young boy couldn't help but smirk at this. Dudley's mum and dad were probably going bonkers trying to sort themselves out. As any good parent should anyway-

He was suddenly reminded of what started this conversation. "Back to my parent's though," the smirk had left for the moment, "this..bad wizard you were talking about. What exactly happened?" The cheery vibe between the two dissipated.

A beat of silence passed.

Daring to press further Harry added "You know Hagrid. I know you do." This seemed to do the trick. With a sigh Hagrid relented.

\---

_Sometime in July, 1986, Godric's Hollow._

_A happy family of three is sat in the front room. Lily and James Potter smile as their son, turning a year old today, looks curiously at one of his wrapped gifts. "It was so nice of Sirius to send this to Harry. You'll have to remind me to write him a thank-you note James." (Sirius didn't know their current whereabouts, as he had turned down their offer of Secret Keeper. Peter Pettigrew, better known as Wormtail, had sent it along with his own.) The fiery haired Lily remarks to her darker haired husband. "What kind of god-father would he be if didn't send his god-son a gift on his first birthday? I'd have to sack him and get Mooney to replace him." Is his bemused reply. He steps away from his wife, who's rolled her eyes at his remark, to help his son open the parcel. It's obvious to James that it's a toy broom stick from it's shape._

_Peeling off the packaging shows him he's correct. Young Harry recognizes this immediately, as he's grown up watching his father along the other Maruaders play Quidditch together. He jumps on the broom and goes flying before his father has opened it completely. James, taken by surprise, can only laugh at this. As his son races around the sitting room, diving between tables and skirting couches, he calls out to his wife, "I don't think you'll thanking Padfoot once you see what he's done."_

_"What's that now?" she calls out from behind. While James had been tending to Harry, she'd remembered the cake she was baking was in the oven. James had wanted to send out for one but with the war going on they'd had to agree that lying low was the better option. Living as Muggles didn't particularly bother Lily as much. She'd been raised for the first decade of her life as one. She was used to having to bake and clean the non-magical way, albeit a bit rusty at it. It was James that was getting fed up with it though he tried not to show it._

_This chain of thought is broken apart when she is nearly bowled over by a flying toddler. Letting out a cry of surprise she back-peddles into the kitchen again. Once she realizes what she's seeing she groans through her teeth. "I swear your friends are trying to kill us sometimes."_

_James laughs from his position on the couch. He's attempting to get the Polaroid camera to open up. After a few more times Lily carefully dodges her son and opens the camera for her husband. She thrusts the camera into his hand saying, "Here go stand by the kitchen, I'll try to get him to slow down." James follows this request walking by the open-curtained window. He does not sense the malicious figure, who has made himself invisible, standing just outside it._

Click!

_James just manages to snap a photo of young Harry enjoying his new toy. That may not sound like much of an accomplishment, but the little bugger was going pretty fast. Quidditch was definitely in his son's future.  
_

_"All right let's see what this last one is. Feels pretty heavy." She observes pulling it closer. Lily's referring to a large box covered in brown wrapping paper. As James eggs her son on, she finds a note as she peels back the wrapping paper. She smiles recognizing the curly hand-writing of Peter Pettigrew. Opening the envelope reveals the words:_

**James,  
**

**Congratulations on Harry's first birthday! You must be thrilled with this new milestone, as I'm sure every parent is. It breaks my heart that I can't be there for Harry's big day. Believe me if I could I'd be there, but it's too dangerous for me at the moment. But enough about me.**

**This gift is more for you and Lily but that isn't to say Harry won't enjoy it either. I'm hoping that Lily will know how to work this device. From what I've heard the Muggles use it to listen to music. I know that you'll be missing your radio down there. I remember your love for music. Unfortunately, however, this device (I believe it's called  a Vinyl Player?) can only play Muggle music. They trap the sound on these little plates called 'records' and the needle then releases it. I chose the record based on popularity so it should be decent, though I'm not sure how it will compare to the music of our people. From what I've heard it should be right up your alley.**

**I'm rambling though aren't I? I'm sure you want to get back to the celebrating now so I won't keep you any longer. But before I formally end I must say this. Be _careful_ James. I know that you don't want to hear it now but it's important. I've known you long enough to realize how reckless you can be, whether intentional or not.  Casting a few protection spells wouldn't hurt. It'd kill me if anything happened to you. All three of you.**

**On a happier note send my regards to Harry and Lily won't you?**

~~**With Love,**~~ **Your Friend,**

**Peter.**

 

_Lily beams as she tears of the rest of the packaging. She runs her hands on the side of the record player's box. Briefly she wonders why Peter thought they'd need such an extravagant gift, her mind venturing back to the foreboding closing of his note. These thoughts quickly die when she sets eyes on the record he's sent along too. "Oh my god-Bon Jovi!" She whisper yells in surprise. It's their 1984 album that also happens to be titled 'Bon Jovi'. She'd have to get her hands on the album they were releasing in August, "Slippery When Wet". It was sure to be good._

_"Bon-Who?" James asks. Harry had tuckered himself out playing with the broom, and James was just picking him up. "The gift Wormy sent us! It's one of those record players I told you about remember? He sent along a Bon Jovi record with it so we'd have something to listen to." Lily holds op the cover so her husband can see. He peers at it curiously through his circular glasses. Privately he's also wondering how Wormy thought it appropriate to send such a pricey gift. He wasn't exactly swimming in Galleons. "What sort of music do they play?" Instead of answering him, she opens the case and places the record under the needle. Jon Bon Jovi's voice fills the room belting out "Runaway". The ginger hums along as her husband nods along to the beat. (He was also careful to not wake his son). "I'll admit they're good-for a Muggle band. Wormy's got good taste." Suddenly reminded of the letter she turns the volume down a bit. "That reminds me he tucked in this card for you. Here I'll take Harry so you can read it." She says swapping the letter for her son. Harry's already fast asleep and snuggles up to her as he feels her warmth. Lily kisses him on the forehead, a rush of affection running through her._

_Just as she started up the stairs there was a loud BANG! as the front door was split open by a shower of green light. She lets out a startled cry and James drops the letter to find his wand. "It's him-he's here! Lily take Harry and go I'll hold him off!" James yelled keeping his aim on the door. "Jame's I'm not-"_

_"GO!" He roars, loud enough to make her listen. As she pelts up the stairs, she's chased by the word's of Bon Jovi;_

Ooh, she's a little runaway

Daddy's girl learned fast,

All the things he couldn't say,

Ooh, she's a little runaway!

_She's never felt more like one than this moment. Slamming her son's bedroom door behind her she has to command herself not to cry, even though she has a sick feeling she knows the fate of her husband she was just talking to, she must be strong for Harry..._

_She squeezes the sleeping bundle in her arms. She has to protect him. No matter what it takes her son will survive this._

_Harry her first and only child, the product of her and James's love for one another._

_Her son, who looked so much like his father._

_Taking a deep breath she strides over to Harry's crib, placing him into it. She pulls out her wand murmuring the incantation she's practiced many times before. She dares one final look at her son before the door bursts open. Even as revulsion and horror run through her veins she forces herself to look her assailant in the eyes._

_Lord Voldemort meets her eyes. "Stand aside silly girl. It's the boy I'm here for." Even though she's been told this before, by Dumbledore himself, hearing these words from his high cold voice causes her to scream out, "No please not Harry! Take me instead!" The two stand silently in mounting tension waiting for the other to lose their nerve. After a moment Lord Voldemort sneers. "Fine have it your way then."_

_In a burst of green flame, Lily Potter's dying scream pierces the air, rousing her son. Voldemort dawns a shit-eating grin and turns his wand on the child uttering what is mostly a death sentence._

_"AVADA CADABRA!"_

_But Lily had been no fool. The spell barely grazed her son before rebounding back to it's castor. Lord Voldemort was blasted into the hallway. The Dark wizard's final cry of pain gave way to the wailing of the child whose life he'd died trying to take. Voldemort had fallen, leaving the Boy Who Lived orphaned in the rubble of his home._

_\---_

 

Hagrid wasn't able to tell the story in it's full magnitude as he wasn't present for it to unfold. And Harry himself obviously didn't remember any of it due to his young age. He was however able to recount the watered down version recounted by the ministry.

"No one knows exactly how ye lived through it 'Arry. Not even the Aurors are sure. Wha' we do know fo' sure is whatever it is tha' saved you ended Lord- _Ahem_ " Hagrid cut himself off when a waitress walked past there table. The young boy and giants' eyes followed her as she strode away. Once she was out of sight Hagrid leaned closer to his listener and murmured, "Lord Voldemort."

"Lord Voldemort?" Harry parroted back. "Shhh!" Hagrid hissed eyes leaping in all directions. "Not so loud boy!" Blushing Harry lowered his gaze. "Sorry."

"'S al'righ'." Hagrid said with a sigh. "Jus' try an' be a bit quieter next time."

During the slight pause the giant catches a glimpse of outside. "Crickey it's dark already? Listen Harry I've got to go-official Hogwarts business an' all that-" Hagrid began to rush out of his seat. Harry doesn't get a chance to interrupt as his friend barrels through his explanation. "Ask Tom for a key, room's under my name, I'll be back in the morning-" was all Harry got before Hagrid was out the door.

He could only sigh and shake his head. He hadn't known the man long but he figured this to be typical behavior of him. Not one to idle long, the boy retrieved his belongings and marched over to the bar section. This area was much more lively. Closer to the door and packed with patrons, Harry tried his best not to feel intimidated by each passing face. Games of darts that shot out sparks, people drinking whiskey that made them breathe fire, men and women snogging on bar-stools, and the man in the corner still singing quietly to himself filled the Leaky Caldron.

He shouldered his way through the crowd and managed to find the bar tender. Tom, an older man with wild gray hair, was pouring a man a drink and having a laugh. Young Harry squeezed between a "So then I says to 'im, I says-'Well you screwed ya best mates _sister_ wha'dya bloddy think would 'appen to ya Christmas present?'!" This earned booming laughter and thunderous applause from his friends.

Managing to shoulder his way through the crowd Harry called out, "Excuse me Mr.Tom?" But the adults conversation drowned him out. "Did lil' Judy really walk in on 'em in the middle o' it?" A portly wizard next to Harry asked. Tom had exchanged the liquor bottle for a rag. He had been wiping a coffee ring away when his friend asked, and stopped to slap the table as laughter seized him again. "I a-almost forgot about that part! Poor little sod!" Something about his tone indicated he didn't feel the least bit sorry for Judy. The way the onlookers joined in, he reckoned they felt the same.

After being the butt of the joke for pretty much his whole life Harry found he had little patience for humor such as this. Much more firmly, he said _"Excuse me."_

The chortles died out for a moment. Tom started to give Harry a glare, but stopped instead to gaze at his forehead. "By the gods," the bar tender said, taken aback,"you're Harry Potter!" Those words _really_ murdered the joking atmosphere.

Silence spread like wildfire, starting with Tom and his friends, creeping along the rest of table, and licking at the back of the room. Harry didn't need to look around to know everyone was staring at him. He could feel their eyes boring into him. Hagrid had warned him of his fame during his explanation about his parents, but Harry hadn't fully understood the power of his words.

After nervously clearing his throat Harry asked, polite as he could, "May I have my room key please? Hagrid said he put it under his name.." His question seemed to breath some life into Tom. "Oh but of course Mr. Potter! Here we are right as promised! Best room in the place!" Tom said, extra emphasis on the last part. Tom thrust the key into the hands of the Boy-Who-Lived.

Grateful for a cue to leave Harry nodded and began to walk away. His exit would not be a quiet one as he had hoped. People seemed to realize that they could speak as Tom did, and took advantage of this. From all sides the eleven year old was bombarded with hand-shakes, slaps on the back and encouraging welcomes as he retreated to the stairs. The boy did his best to smile through it all not wanting to seem ungrateful.

"So great to finally meet you Mr.Potter!"

"I'm so glad you're back!"

"Welcome back Mr. Potter!"

"If you ever need anything from me Mr. Potter, do not hesitate to ask!"

He was sure that these comments and gestures were all meant in good spirits. But he had to admit, in the privacy of his own mind, that escaping to his room gave him a feeling of great relief.

\---

 He should have been grateful for the four-poster bed that loomed before him. Should've appreciated all the fruit-baskets, flowers, balloons, and cards that had begun to arrive in his room. The only feeling his tired body could dredge up had been a heavy blanket of discomfort. The bed, although comfortable, seemed far too spacious and empty. He was used to an air-mattress. Although it hadn't provided much back support and had in-fact made his body ache each morning, it had been comfortably familiar. He'd slept on it for as long as he could remember. It was something that he and nobody else had owned. It was _his_ bed.

The mattress he currently lay upon gave none of those gifts. The plush feathery lining radiated a sense of cold indifference. The sort of tone that indicated no ownership of any sort, like it was telling him just how little he meant because there would be another patron our two tomorrow, a much more sophisticated and worthy one at that.

In short he'd begun to realize just how out of place he was.

As for the gifts sent by supposed well-wishers? Harry didn't like to admit this, but he felt a quiet loathing at the pile made in the corner. They whispered their congratulations and support in the writing of complete strangers. Was he really supposed to believe that it was genuine? None of them had spoken more than two-words to him before, had not gone looking for him after his parents demise, had thrown him to the wolves that made up his surviving family, and all of a sudden now they remembered? _Now_ he mattered, simply because he's defeated Wizard-Hitler by some miracle when he was a baby?

A miracle he added that he didn't even fully remember.

With a small groan he flopped to his other side. He really wished his active brain would catch up with his exhausted body. It was times like this, late at night when the sullen bitter parts of you floated to the surface. Drowning all the optimism swimming in the lake of minds.

_Lakes..._ He thought treading on the edge of slumber. _Makes me think about Lake Ekal.._

Harry plunged into dreamland with a smile on lips and glasses perched on his nose.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter was really just me getting a feel on J.K Rowling's writing style, so sorry if it's a bit filler-y.


End file.
